The people who are surrounding
They're just there for the crowding
It's starting to look like a mounding
That's rounding for recognition
That is all to it for their mission
They do it with such precision and they don't even care about the decision
It's only for the yes's, never the no's or the maybe so's
The time will come, when they'll get stung
Stung by the needles, the powder, and the pills
You will never sit still
There comes a point where they will become ill and during the night, a possible kill
The tumultuous life of never lowering the knife
And so builds up all that strife
They'll never stop, as long as there isn't a cop
The cop who will lead them straight to the mop
If it's too hard to handle, will they pop?